Come see the crumbling blocks of timeless, weathered stones in the desert as seen through the slightly different, slightly imperfect, but always unpredictable eyes of that wonderfully simple piece of photographic machinery called the Holga.  Our only involvement?  We pointed the Holga in approximately the right direction and pressed the shutter release.  The rest was left to the gods.
 
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Trading cameras, trading shots.  Nez and the digital behemoth with Riot, armed with the Holga, reflecting in her shades.  We had just gone inside the Red Pyramid, whose entrance is that small black dot to the upper right of Nez’s head.
 

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